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THE BOY5 OF 
THE OLD 



GLEE CLVB 




By JAMES "WlilKBMB RILEY 





INDIANAPOLIS 



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copybigiit 1907 
James Whitcomb Rii,et 



November 



}Lri>'(iiRY of CONeRcSSi 
T>vo Ccoies Received 

NOV 27 isar 

CLASS CX AXc. i^o, | 
/ 9 3 1, q 
COPY A. / 







BY¥ILL-J^^WTE& 



DE5IGN5***BY 






LIST OF ILLVSTR^ION5 




Then Th' Old Glee 
Club marched out to victory ! — Frontispiece ^ 



Politics was runnin' high 



Burgess Brown's friends all 'low 
He is 'most as lively now 



Prompt on time to vote at home ! " 



Er sometimes jest set and talk 
' Bout old times back here — 



He says, "Course I'm bald a. bit' 




— ever one — 
Loved to love Will Tarkington ! ^ 

And a Brass, and Sheepskin Band 



Heerd high 'bove the hoarsest roar 
O' any storm on sea er shore ! 



Time's be'n cloekin' on, you know ! 



Campaign work and jubilees 
To wake up the primaries 



Mahlon Butler he come past , 
My shop 



" — Thank God, they're singing yet!" 



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YOU-tolks rickollect, I know — 
'Tain't so very long ago — 
Th' Old Glee Club — was got up here 
'Bout first term Grant tuk the Cheer 
Fer President four year — and then 
Riz — and tuk the thing again! 








Politics was runnin' high, 
And the Soldiers mighty nigh 
Swep' the Country — 'bout on par 
With their rickord through the War. 
Glee Club, mainly. Soldiers, too — 
Most the Boys had wore the blue, — 
So their singin' had the swing — 
Kindo'-sorto' Shiloh-ring, 
Don't you know, 'at kindo' got 
Clean inside a man and shot 
Telegrams o' joy dee-vine 
Up and down his mortal spine! 



«.*t^ 




They was jest boys then, all young — 
And 'bout lively as they sung! 
No^v they hain't young anymore — 
('Less the ones 'at's gone before 
'S got their youth back, glad and free 
'N' keerless as they used to be!) 
Burgess Brown s old friends all 'low 
He is 'most as lively now, 
And as full o' music, too. 
As when Old Glee Club was new ! 
And John Blake, you mind, 'at had 
The near-sightedness so bad. 
When he sung by note, the rest 
'em fer him, er he guessed 
they run — and sung 'em, too, 
and sweet as honey-dew! 



■ snnn(f\~ 




Harry Adams 's here — and he's 
JoUyin' ever' man he sees 
'At complains o' gittin' gray 
Er 2.-age\n' anyway. 
Harry he jest thrives on fun — 
"Troubles?" he says, — "Nary one! — 
Got gran'-childern I can play 
And keep young with, night and day!" 
Then there's Ozzy Weaver — he's 
Kickin', lively as you please, — 
'N' Dearie Macy. — Called 'em then 
"The Cherubs." Sung "We are two Men 
O' th' Olden Time." Well! their duets 
\y/ Was jest sweet as violets ! 










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And Dan Ransdell — he's still here — 

Not jest in the town, but near 

Enough, you bet, to alius come 

Prompt' on time to vote at home! 

Dan he's be'n in Washington 

Sence he went with Harrison. . . . 

And John Slauson — (Boys called John 

"Sloppy Weather.")— he went on 

Once to Washington; and Dan 

Intertained him : — Ever' man, 

From the President, to all 

Other big-guns Dan could haul 

In posish 'ud have to shake 

Hands with John fer old times' sake. 



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And to hear John, when he got 
Home again, w'y, you'd a-caught 
His own sperit and dry fun 
And mis-<:/ziVi;^-y-ousness 'at run 
Through his talk of all he see : — 
"Ruther pokey there, fer me" 
John says, — "though, of course, I met 
Mostly jest the Cabinet 
Members; and the President 
He'd drop round : and then we went 
Incogg fer a quiet walk — 
Er sometimes jest set and talk 
'Bout old times back here — and how 
All yoM-boys was doin' now. 
And Old Glee Club songs ; and then 
He'd say, 'f he could, once again. 
Jest hear us — 'once more,' says he, — 
'I'd shed Washington, D. C, 
And jest fall in ranks with you 
And march home, a-singin', too!' " 



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And Bob Ginger — Now lives down 
At Atlanty, — but this town 
'S got Bob's heart — a permanent 
And time-honored resident. 
Then there's Mahlon Butler — still 
Lookin' like he alius will ! 
"How you feelin'?" s'l, last time 
I see Mahlon : 'N' he says, "I'm 
^Feelin'?' " says, "so peert and gay 
'F I's hitched up I'd run away!" 
He says, "Course I'm bald a bit, 
But not 'nough to brag on it 
Like Dave Wallace does," he says, 
"With his two shamef acetedness !" 
(Dave jest laughs and lifts his "dice" 
At the joke, and blushes — twice.) 



^•?=^anlt|i, iJcJjtJ 




And Ed. Thompson, he's gone on — 
They's a whole quartette 'at's gone — 
Yes, a whole quartette, and more, 
Has crossed on the Other Shore. . . . 
Sab old and Doc Woodward's gone — 
'N' Ward; and— last,— ^/// Tarkin^ton. 
Ward 'at made an Irish bull 
Actchully jest beautiful ! — 
" 'Big-nose Ben,' " says Ward, "I s'pose, 
Makes an eyesore of his nose!" 
And Will Tarkington — Ef he 
Ever had an inemy. 
The Good Bein's plans has be'n 
Tampered with ! — because all men. 
Women and childern — ever' one — 
Loved to love Will Tarkington! 



The last time I heerd 'em all 
Was at Tomilsonian Hall, 
As I rickollect — and know, — 
Must be'n fifteen year' ago! — 
Big Mass Meetin' — thousands here. . 
Old Dick Thompson in the Cheer 
On the stage— and three er four 
0/A^r "Silver-Tongues" er more! . . 
Mind Ben Harrison? — Clean, rich, 
Ringin' voice — " 'bout concert-pitch," 
Tarkington he called it, and 
Said its music 'clipsed the band 
And Glee Club both rolled in one ! — 
('Course you all knowed Harrison!) 




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Yes, and Old Flag, streamin' clean 
From the high arch 'bove the scene 
And each side the Speaker's stand.— 
And a Brass, and Sheepskin Band, 
('Twixt the speeches 'at was made) 
'At cut loose and banged and played — 
S'pose, to have the noise all through 
So's th' crowd could listen to 
Some real music! — Then Th' Old Glee 
Club marched out to victory! — 
And sich singin'! — Boys was jest 
At their very level-best! . . . 
My/ to hear 'em! — From old "Red- 
White-and-Blue," to "Uncle Ned"!— 
From "The Sword of Bunker Hill," 
To "Billy Magee-Magaw"!— And— still 
The more they sung, the more, you know, 
The crowd jest wouldn't let 'em go! — 
Till they reached the final notch 
O' glory with old "Larboard Watch!" 






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Well ! that song's a song my soul 
Jest swings ofif in, past control! — 
Alius did and alius will 
Lift me clair of earthly ill 
And interrogance and doubt 
O' what the good Lord's workin' out 
Anyway er anyhow! . . . 
Shet my eyes and hear it now/ — 
Till, at night, that ship and sea 
And wet waves jest wallers me 
Into that same sad yet glad 
Certainty the Sailor had 
When waked to his watch and ward 
By th' lone whisper of the Lord — 
Heerd high 'bove the hoarsest roar 
O' any storm on sea er shore ! 




Time's be'n clockin' on, you know! 

Sabold, who was first to go, 

Died back East, in ninety-three. 

At his old home, Albany: 

Ward was next to leave us — Died 

New York . . . How we've laughed and cried 

Both together at them two 

Friends and comards tried and true!— 

Ner they wasn't, when they died. 

Parted long — 'most side-by-side 

They went singin', you might say, 

Till their voices died away 

Kindo' into a duet 

O' silence they're rehearsin' yet. 




Old Glee Club's be'n meetin' less 
And less frequenter, I guess, 
Sence so many's had to go — 
And the rest all miss 'em so ! 
Still they's calls they' got to make, 
Fer old reputation's sake, 
So to speak ; but, 'course, they all 
Can't jest answer ever call — 
'Ceptin' Christmas-times, er when 
Charity calls on 'em then ; 
And — not chargin' anything — 
W'y, the Boys 's jest got to sing! 







Campaign work, and jubilees 
To wake up the primaries; 
Loyal Legions — G. A. R.'s — 
Big Reunions — Stripes-and-Stars 
Fer School-houses ever'where — 
And Church-doin's, here and there- 
And Me-morial Meetin's, when 
Our War-Gov'ner lives again ! 
Yes, and Decoration Days — 
Martial music — prayers and praise 
Fer the Boys 'at marched away 
So's we 'd have a place to stay! . 
Little childern, 'mongst the flowers, 
Learnin' 'bout this Land of Ours, 
And the price these Soldiers paid, 
Gethered in their last parade. . . 




that sweetest, saddest sound! — 
^'Tenting on the old Campground." . . . 
The Old Glee Club— singin' so 
Quaverln'-like and soft and low, 
Ever' listener in the crowd 
Sings in whispers — but, out 'loud, 
Sings as ef he didn't keer — 
Not fer nothin'l .... Ketch me here 
Whilse I'm honest, and I'll say 
God's way is the only way! . . . 
So I' alius felt, i jing! 
Ever' time the Boys 'ud sing 
'Bout "A Thousand Years, my Own 
Columbia!" — er "The Joys we've Known"- 
'Hear dem Bells"— er "Hi-lo, Hail!"— 

1 have felt God must prevail — 



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Jest like ever' boy 'at's gone 
Of 'em all, whilse he was on 
Deck here with us, seemed to be 
Livin', laughin' proof, to me, 
Of Eternal Life — No more 
Will than them all, gone heiorcl . 
Can't I — many-a-time — jest see 
Them all, like they used to be! — 
Tarkington, fer instance, clean 
Outside o' the man you seen, 
Singin' — till not only you 
Heerd his voice but felt it, too, 
In back of the bench you set 
In — And 'most can feel it yet! 
Yes, and Will's the last o' five 
Now that's dead — ^yet still alive. 
True as Holy Writ's own word 
Has be'n spoke and man has heerd! 



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Them was left when Will went on 
Has met once sence he was gone — 
Met jest once — but not to sing 
Ner to practice anything. — 
Facts is, they jest didn't know 
Why they was a-meetin' so ; — 
But John Brush he had it done 
And invited ever' one 
Of 'em he could find, to call 
At his office, Music Hall, 
Four o'clock — one Saturd'y 
Afternoon. — And this was three 
Er four weeks, mind, sence the day 
We had laid poor Will away. 



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Mahlon Butler he come past 

My shop, and I dropped my last 

And went with him, wonder'n', too, 

What new joke Brush had in view ; — 

But, when all got there, and one- 

By-one was give' a seat, and none 

O' Brush's twinkles seemed in sight, 

'N' he looked biz all right, all right, — 

We saw — ^when he'd locked the door — 

What some of us, years before. 

Had seen, and long sence fergot — 

{Seen but not heerd, like as not.) — 

How Brush, once when Admiral Brown 

'S back here in his old home-town 

And flags ever'wheres — and Old 

Glee Club tellin' George to "Hold 

The Fort!" and "We" would "make 'em flee 

By land and sea," etcetery,- 




How Brush had got the Boys to sing 

A song in that-there very thing 

Was on the table there to-day — 

Some kind o' ^ phone, you know. — But say! 

When John touched it off, and we 

Heerd it singin' — No-sir-ee! — 

Not the machine a-singin' — No, — 

Th' 0/J G/^^C/w^o' long ago! . . . 

There was Sab old's voice again — 

'N' Ward's; — and, sweet as summer-rain, 

With glad boy-laughture's trills and runs, 

Ed. Thompson's voice and Tarkington's! . . 






And ah, to hear them, through the storm 
Of joy that swayed each listener's form — 
Seeming to call, with hail and cheer. 
From Heaven's high seas down to us here : — ' 
''But who can speak the joy he feels 
While o'er the foam his vessel reels, 
^-^W/Mi. And his tired eyelids slumbering fall, 
He rouses at the welcome call 
Of 'Larboard Watch, Ahoy!' " 

And 

To hear them — same as long ago — 
The listeners whispered, still as death, 
With trembling lips and broken breath, 
As with one voice — and eyes all wet, — 
J "God! — God! — Thank God, they're singing 
yet!" 




DEC 3 W'J/ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ^ 

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